Tea For Two
by kasey8473
Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on ObiWan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates. Chapter 7 is updated with corrections. Complete. Rating is for the humor.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M, for the humor

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Just a silly little story set between AOTC and ROTS. I felt the need for something a bit..._lighter_ after writing WAW. If anyone knows where the song Anakin sings originated, please tell me and I'll list it.

* * *

They were not in a relationship. Dormé kept reminding herself of that as she tried to decide what to wear. They were just friends. No, she amended quickly. Not friends. _Acquaintances_ by knowing Padmé and Anakin. Really, they could call each other colleagues. 

Well, if they stretched the truth a bit.

She pulled out her dark purple dress, then the red and finally the blue. He liked blue, didn't he? She tried to remember, ignoring Ellé and Moteé's teasing as best she could. They giggled merrily and continued making annoying references to mystery men.

"What is going on in here?" Padmé appeared in the doorway, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Dormé has a date," Ellé sing-songed.

"It's not a date," Dormé protested. "It's tea."

"Then why are you getting out your prettiest clothes," Moteé inquired with an arched brow.

"Can't I want to look pretty?" She chose the blue and put the other two away.

"Definitely a date," Moteé informed Padmé, who laughed and came into the room.

"Well, who is he? Anyone we know?" Padmé opened Dormé's jewelry box, that small box holding trinkets that had been gifts. She took out a silver pendant that had blue stones matching the trim on the dress. "Here, wear this too."

Should she tell? He'd said nothing about keeping their occasional afternoon teas a secret and yet... Dormé wanted to keep them to herself, to have a genteel mystery in her life. Nothing high drama, only a little harmless excitement. Dormé smiled. "He's a gentleman. Very kind. And he has a wicked sense of humor."

"We know him," Ellé said, carefully taking Dormé's dress from it's hanger and undoing the line of buttons that held it closed in back.

"Kind and has a sense of humor," Moteé mused thoughtfully. "It can't be Jeman from the seamstress shop. He's a sour, humorless kid. Cute, but has no sense of humor."

"It's not Jeman," Dormé confirmed with a wrinkle of her nose. Besides, Jeman only had eyes for Ellé. He mooned over her every time they went in, going all tongue tied and clumsy. No, her friend was not like that. Her friend was never tongue tied or clumsy. At least not that she'd ever noticed.

"Who else is there?" Bending, Moteé picked out the most uncomfortable shoes Dormé owned, a beaded and embroidered mule she'd picked up on sale and never worn because they pinched her toes after ten minutes. "Wear these. They match."

"I don't want to wear those, they pinch."

Padme sat on the bed, leaned back on her hands. "Take it from me, Dormé. Sometimes, beauty hurts."

"Oh! Oh! I know who it is!" Ellé took Dormé's robe from her while Moteé helped her into the dress despite her protests that she could dress herself. "It's Tepin from security. He's always been sweet on you and he fits the description. Gentleman. Kind. Sense of humor. It has to be Tepin. Besides, he's cute."

Dormé shook her head. "Nope. Not Tepin. But you are getting warmer in a way." The dress fit her well, being at once modest and provocative without being too much of either. She flushed. Would he like her dress? She thought he would.

"You're blushing." Brush in hand, Moteé urged her to sit. "Let me do your hair."

She snatched the brush away. Let Moteé have at her and she'd be suffering one of those intricate hairstyles Padmé usually wore. That was all fine for Padmé because her job required some elegance, but Dormé didn't need anything like that for tea. It was only tea. Nothing more. "I can do my own hair, thank you."

"Oh come on, Dormé. I've been dying to put your hair up properly for weeks."

"No, thank you, Moteé." She saw Moteé flinch as she tugged at a snarl with the brush and knew it was taking all of Moteé's self control not to yank the brush back and have at her.

"Spoilsport."

Padmé chuckled again. "Word of advice: if you're meeting a man, then wear it down and loose. Men like that."

Moteé, Ellé and Dormé all looked at her.

"What," Padmé said, sitting up and shifting uncomfortably. "They do."

"Anakin does," Dormé said softly, sharing a glance with the other two handmaidens. They all knew how much Anakin liked Padmé's hair down. He got this silly little grin on his face and discretion seemed to leave him.

Padmé rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he's not the only one. That's beside the point. We're talking about Dormé's boyfriend, _not_ my husband."

"I do not have a boyfriend. He's a friend, nothing more."

Now Padmé got up and came to her, bringing the necklace. "Careful, Dormé. I said those very words myself not too long ago."

"But in my case, it's true. I have no intention of marrying O--" Dormé's eyes went wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth, managing at the last second to keep from blurting out his name.

"O?" Padmé put the necklace on her, straightened the chain. "Who, ladies, do we know whose name begins with that letter?" As Ellé and Moteé ran through the surprisingly long list of men whose name began with 'O', Padmé stared at her, gauging her reaction to each one, that sharp gaze looking for any tiny reaction.

Dormé tried to brace herself for when his name eventually was mentioned.

"Orellis, Orin, Olenter, Obran, Obi-Wan..." Moteé continued on with the list, oblivious of Dormé.

Dormé couldn't help her blink and near grin at his name.

Padmé saw and smiled. "Okay, that is quite enough. Quit teasing for a bit. Go, find something else to do." It was a soft order with a bit of steel behind it. Good naturedly, the two left about other tasks.

"My lady," Dormé began, only to have Padmé shush her.

"He is an acceptable companion to spend an afternoon with." She picked up a plain comb, swept Dormé's hair up one side of her head and secured it, baring her ear and neck. "There. All pretty. Enjoy your tea, Dormé." Padmé followed Ellé and Moteé, leaving Dormé alone.

She looked at her reflection. A crush, she thought. Heavens. I have a crush on Obi-Wan Kenobi. When did this happen?

She pondered that all the way to the café they planned to meet at. There was not one single moment where she could remember deciding to entertain slightly romantic thoughts about him. It had simply happened, her mind conjuring forth his image to distract her at inopportune moments.

Oh, she had all the signs of an adolescent type crush too. She couldn't wait to see him and wanted to every day. She felt breathless after they spoke, as though she wasn't getting enough oxygen -- which could be true, since she'd caught herself holding her breath as he talked. Wouldn't that be lovely, to pass out in front of him? Of course, there could be an upside to that in that he might gather her into his arms and hold her...

She'd discovered herself doodling his name and had been imagining of late that they lived happily ever after. Of course, her rich fantasy life in that area was prodded greatly by Padmé and Anakin's romance. Dormé had wondered how many Jedi had married in secret like Anakin. It was terribly romantic.

She sighed, slowing her strides as she reached the street it was on. Her stomach clenched with spasms of nervousness. He would be waiting, she knew. He always arrived before she did, well before the appointed hour, so that there would be tea and pastries waiting her arrival. He would have ordered her favorite, a rich, cream filled pastry that he'd once declared far too sweet for his taste. He was thoughtful that way, remembering things like that. Her favorite pastry, favorite tea.

Dormé saw him and hurried across the courtyard.

* * *

He never should have mentioned he was meeting Dormé. At least, not to Anakin and not after he'd already met with her on other occasions. It was all quite innocent, but his Padawan took it as a chance to imply something sordid and tease him. 

Unmercifully.

All morning long.

"I cannot get over this, Master."

"There's nothing to get over." Really, he should put a stop to this teasing, but the past few months since the beginning of the war had been so stressful that he knew he and Anakin both needed a light moment. He'd accept the teasing and simply find something to tease Anakin about later as payback. Something big. Something he could draw out like Anakin was milking this. Nothing immediately came to mind, but if he was patient, he was certain something would present itself. It always did.

"Of course there is. For years, you've cautioned me about attachments. _Everyone_ cautioned me about them and then you turn right around and have these afternoon assignations with a pretty little handmaiden."

"Assignations? Delightful choice of words," he commented, checking his belt to make certain he had everything. "Building your vocabulary, are you?"

"Always, Master. I learn new words every day."

"As long as you don't use them," he said sternly.

Anakin picked up a glass, then set it right back down, humor in his voice "You know what they say, Master. Use any new word three to five times in a day to remember it properly."

"I'd just as soon you forget most of those words, not remember them." Was it his imagination, or was he getting gray hairs in his beard already? Ahh, the hazards of having Anakin for his Padawan.

"We were talking about Dormé, not my ever increasing, spectacular vocabulary."

"Correction, Anakin. _You_ were talking about her, not I."

"Ahh, but you remarked that you were looking forward to seeing her again. That qualifies as part of a conversation. So, we were discussing her, the two of us."

Obi-Wan stared at his reflection, wondering if he should have gotten his hair cut. Did Dormé like the longer hair? And the gray. Did she see it as distinguished?

Blast it all, he thought. Why do I even care? It's _my_ hair and my beard. I doubt she ever thinks of them. Why would she? We're friends. Nothing more. Never more.

"She _is_ pretty, Master. Dark hair, dark eyes."

"Anakin." He found his Padawan in the mirror, saw Anakin watching him with a strange expression on his face, almost as though he was searching for something.

"What? I'm only pointing out what you've probably already noticed."

Time was moving quickly and he was going to be late if he didn't get moving. "Yes, she is pretty." He tried to recall her favorite tea, frowning when it wouldn't rise from memory. "Quite pretty as a matter of fact."

"And _you_ caution _me_ about becoming attached? Master, look at yourself."

"I am looking." Obi-Wan returned his gaze to his own reflection. "What am I supposed to be seeing?"

"You're becoming used to her. Attached."

He rolled his eyes. "I am not."

"Oh yes you are. Obi-Wan and Dormé sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g--"

"Where did you learn that appalling song?"

Anakin grinned, unrepentant and unenlightening his Master. "Would you like to hear the rest of it?"

"No. Act your age, Anakin."

"If I must, Master."

"You must. Please."

He crossed his arms. "Okay, Master. We were talking about your growing, and wholly understandable, attachment to the lovely Dormé."

Obi-Wan sighed, giving Anakin a good-natured lift of one brow. "I am not attached to her."

"Of course not. You've just seen her five times already in the past two months. That's five times in the two brief moments we've been back to Coruscant."

"I enjoy her company," he said, straightening his tunic.

"I'll bet."

There was something in Anakin's tone that made him pause, a cynicism, a _knowledge_. Had Anakin's own visits with Padmé and her ladies finally made him more at ease with women? Had he matured enough to fully realize the allure of the fairer sex? It certainly sounded like it. He turned his head, catching the tiny grin on Anakin's lips.

Yes, definitely knowledge there. Another sigh left him. He'd always dreaded the day when Anakin's hormones would send him into even more trouble than usual and been pleasantly surprised when that moment hadn't happened, deciding Anakin was just a late bloomer in that department.

Or had it taken place and he'd missed seeing it?

Now that was a disturbing thought. Anakin had always snuck out at night and now it belatedly occurred to Obi-Wan that perhaps he'd been sneaking out to meet girls. He swallowed hard, imagining little Anakins running around the galaxy asking the eternal 'why' as they caused chaos. Ridiculous. Wouldn't he know by now if there were any little Anakins running around Coruscant?

He tugged at his tunic.

I'm nervous. How bizarre is that? I'm nervous to see her.

"Don't be impertinent, Anakin. It's not like that."

"Oh?" Anakin straddled a chair, rested his arms on the back and his chin on his arms. "So what _is_ it like?"

He had the irritating need to justify himself to his Padawan. "We're friends. Nothing more. There is not one hint of romantic nonsense between myself and Dormé."

Anakin watched him with an amused stare.

"Really. I mean it."

"I didn't say anything," Anakin protested.

"You _were_ thinking it. How many times have I told you to be mindful of your thoughts?"

As a distraction, his reprimand worked slightly. Anakin frowned, grin fading. "I'm sorry, Master. I'll do better."

Of course he always said that. Obi-Wan put on his robe, adjusted it. "I'll be gone all afternoon and possibly part of the evening." Anticipating Anakin's response to _that_, he added," I will be available at all times should you require my immediate return for one reason or another."

"Enjoy your..._tea_, Master."

He felt like shaking his head. Incorrigible. Even now, Anakin was incorrigible. That emphasis on 'tea'... He strode to the door. "Please do something constructive while I'm gone."

"Of _course_, Master. I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

Oh, Obi-Wan didn't like the tone of that. It was rife with all sorts of mischief. Giving Anakin a last, and hopefully reproving enough glance to discourage the worst of his mischief, Obi-Wan left his quarters. If he hurried, he'd still get there before Dormé.

* * *

Constructive, Anakin decided as the door closed, was a relative term. His idea of what was constructive and Obi-Wan's idea rarely meshed. For example, Obi-Wan would hardly consider Anakin spending an afternoon all alone with Padmé to be constructive. Anakin, on the other hand, considered it very constructive, especially if it entailed no clothes and her rather large, comfortable bed, and decided he'd waited long enough to see her. 

As a Padawan, sneaking out of the Temple was sometimes difficult and occasionally impossible. One never knew when Mace Windu would suddenly appear, demanding to know where the Padawan thought he was going by himself. He'd had that happen the last time they were on-planet. He'd ended up sneaking out in the middle of the night and accidentally scaring Padmé half to death when he'd crawled into bed with her. She'd given him quite a bruise.

Anakin had learned to be careful. He employed caution even as he entered the apartment, keeping an eye, ear and all senses alert for handmaidens, dignitaries and anyone else who might be visiting Padmé. Stepping into the living area, he found Threepio powered down and his beloved waiting for him.

"My lady," he began, still cautious though he detected no one.

She launched herself into his arms, nimble fingers working him out of his clothes. By this, he deduced there really was no one there besides them. "No one here. Get these off." She shoved his vest and tunic off his shoulders and down his arms without bothering to undo his belt.

"Right," he replied, taking care of his belt clasp with a blatant disregard for proper use of the Force. He couldn't keep his wife waiting, now could he? Even Obi-Wan couldn't argue with that logic.

Well, he _could_...

Padmé kissed him and he forgot all about Obi-Wan.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M

Chapter Two

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

Everything was perfect. Well, as perfect as he could make it. After all, he was only a man. Noting the hour, he perused the table a final time. Location far enough away from other patrons to lend an intimacy...er...privacy to their conversation. A fresh pot of tea and two cups. One of those gooey sticky pastries she liked and a piece of cake for him. 

In his mind, he could see her taking a bite of the pastry. The filling would ooze out, a little bit adhering to the corner of her mouth and she'd lick it away. Then, of course her fingers would be all sticky from the icing and she'd have to lick that away as well...

Obi-Wan frowned. Oh Force, get a grip on yourself. You're behaving like a boy with his first crush, being as silly as Anakin can get. Just remember that goofy expression he once got when looking at Padmé after ten years. Don't imitate it and embarrass yourself. Granted, Padme did look rather pretty that day, but still, Dormé doesn't need you gawking at her. It's not dignified, Kenobi.

Looking up, he saw Dormé coming towards him. The first thing he noticed was that she had her hair down. Wow. It certainly added to her appeal, dark waves streaming over her shoulders and curling slightly at the ends. He wondered what the texture would be like against his fingers and had the urge to stand and greet her as a friend he'd not seen in years, enveloping her in a hug, his hands buried in her hair.

He stood and did not hug her, bowing just a little. "Hello."

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said with a becoming blush to her cheeks. Dormé undid the cloak fastenings.

"Oh, no bother. You're right on--" He paused, words stuck in his throat as the cloak fell away. A surge of sheer appreciation... No, sheer _lust_ shot through him and Obi-Wan wondered if Dormé had been sharing fashion secrets with Aayla Secura. Her dress could be called modest on many worlds, especially on such a one as Coruscant with the varied cultures living here. On some worlds however, it'd get her shipped off-planet for being an assumed prostitute.

Did Padmé approve of her handmaidens dressing like this on their off hours?

Obi-Wan dismissed the musing as ridiculous. Of course she must. Dormé was wearing it, wasn't she? For all he knew, Padmé considered this dress spinsterish. He'd never really considered the female clothing styles in the Naboo culture before, but if this dress was an example of it, he wholeheartedly approved.

Her arms were covered, but her cleavage was on magnificent display. There were crisscrossed strips of fabric over her bare midriff and the skirt was not only low slung on her hips, but also had long slits that showed her legs when she walked.

He cleared his throat and tried to remember what he'd been about to say. "That is a pretty dress."

The compliment seemed to please her inordinately and she twirled for him.

Oh, very pretty, he thought with an arched brow. Nearly half her back was bare and the twirl exposed her legs again. Then she sat and her crossed arm pose pushed her cleavage up near to bursting her top. Obi-Wan sat back in his own chair and wondered why the temperature had suddenly risen about twenty degrees so quickly.

"Thank you," she replied. "I don't get to wear it very often, but it's one of my favorites."

"It's beautiful."

Dormé ducked her head and bit her lip.

"And you're not late," he blurted out, then busied himself pouring tea, admonishing himself once more to not behave like Anakin had with Padmé. I'm a grown man, he thought. I'm in my thirties. I shouldn't be having this much of a reaction to a beautiful woman. He swallowed hard and tried for a casual air. "You were right on time."

"You're being polite." She took her cup, drew the pastry plate towards her. "I'm at least five minutes late."

"A gentleman will wait hours for a lady, I assure you, Dormé." He gave an inward cringe. Smooth, Kenobi. Can't you think of anything wittier to say?

She gave a tinkling little laugh. "Oh, I've been looking forward to this. We've been so busy recently. Appointment after appointment and my lady has quite a bit on her mind."

"Is the Senate being contrary again?" Lifting his fork, he cut a bite of cake. "Would you like to try a bite?"

"When isn't the Senate being contrary? I've never been so bored as when the sessions drag on and on." Dormé looked at the cake with a tilted head, then nodded. "Very well. You tried my pastry last time, so I'll try your cake this time." She used her own fork, taking only a tiny bite, but he stopped her, taking the fork from her and digging a bigger bite onto it.

"If you're going to try it, Dormé, then have a good try. No tiny nibbles."

The bite was eaten, the rich cake savored. He liked to watch her eat something sweet for this reason. She savored each bite, enjoying it to the fullest, and always waited a long moment before taking the next bite. She claimed she could make it last all afternoon if she really tried.

Dormé opened her eyes. "Good, but I'll stick to my pastries." She shifted a little in her chair, looking down at her lap and pulling at her dress.

Obi-Wan struggled to find something to continue their conversation with. The ensuing silence felt awkward to him. Had he offended her with his enthusiastic comment on her dress? Returning to what he'd said in his mind, he cringed again when he decided his tone had been far too...fervent. He _had_ offended her, hadn't he? He'd ogled her like a inexperienced teenaged boy and she was embarrassed.

Good going, Kenobi. She probably thinks you're going to grope her under the table or something. Pervert. Fix this.

The last thing he wanted was to offend Dormé. What on earth could he do to put her back at ease? Obi-Wan stared at his plate, frantically trying to come up with an idea.

* * *

He was only being polite, wasn't he? He didn't really like her dress even though he'd said it was pretty. Dormé was grateful for the little bit of silence between them, taking the chance to smooth her dress and surreptitiously tug at the crisscrossing strips over her stomach. 

It was too revealing. She'd been an idiot to pick out this dress. She'd embarrassed him by the show of skin hadn't she? That was why he wasn't looking at her, his attention firmly upon his plate. She now wished she'd worn a different dress, though her dress covered far more than Padmé's version of it. I've offended him, she thought. I should have realized... The Jedi I've seen all wear as many clothes as Padmé did as Queen. He's modest, isn't he and now I've mucked this up. Good job, Dormé.

"Um... Did you wish a different pastry? I could order another?" He was eying her plate with curiosity and she hurried to lift the pastry.

"Oh no, I was...distracted." The icing was sweeter than usual, nearly too sweet. Perhaps she should have him order something different. That cake he always bought had tasted delicious.

He took a sip of tea. "So, tell me more of what you've been up to since the last time we talked." There was a quick flash of even white teeth and Dormé nearly swooned from that beautiful smile.

"Just the usual. My lady is so busy that sometimes it seems we do nothing but traipse to and from the Senate building. And then what off hours we have fly by far too quickly. The days come and go and sometimes I'm not sure what we really did with the hours. There is a sense of futility I feel in the Senate, but who am I to complain?" She licked icing from her fingers.

"You're a loyal citizen of the Republic. You have as much a voice as anyone." Obi-Wan's stare followed her movements, his expression almost pleased. She liked that about him, how he gave her such attention in their conversations. As though she was the only person there.

"That's what my lady says. I know it's true in theory and I still feel the Senate does nothing but argue. Few things are ever really resolved and I worry so much for my lady. She has made enemies with her politics."

"Those who speak for truth often do. Those in the wrong don't like to see that they are wrong. When their blindness is put forward to them, they refuse to accept truth. They consider themselves right. That's simply how it is." He slid his plate to one side, crossed his arms and rested them along the edge of the table. "I asked about you, however, not Padmé. What have you been doing, Dormé? Read any good books? Seen any good shows? What do you like to do?"

What _had_ she been doing? What _did_ she like to do? Dormé actually had to think on the questions, for she'd wrapped herself up in her work so well that sometimes it was difficult to remember that she was a woman apart from Padmé Amidala. She'd devoted herself to keeping Padmé safe and being the sort of woman that role required. She was an essential part of the _entourage_, as all the handmaidens were.

She'd shopped with her lady, gone to plays with her, spent hours with her in the Senate, and pursued the same leisure activities but what had Dormé really been doing for herself? The answer to the question shocked her more than a little. Nothing. She'd done nothing for herself. Her lady's interests had become her own. The shopping, the shows, the daily doings... All Padmé's interests. Dormé licked her lips with a tiny little frown. When was the last time she'd done anything she wanted to do?

I don't remember, she thought. I honestly don't remember when my life wasn't about my work.

"Nothing at all," he prompted, then seemed to realize she was having a difficult moment, beginning to tell her what he himself did. "When I have time I read. I enjoy a good mystery novel. On occasion I can figure out the clues before the author explains everything. Anakin reads adventures..." He stared down at his tea with a rueful expression, "and technical manuals. I should say he reads the manuals more than anything. That boy will settle down with some horribly dry technical manual and read it as though it's the most fascinating thing he's set eyes on. I've never understood that. And then he reads what he considers choice bits out loud."

"Out loud," she asked, trying to give herself longer to formulate an answer.

"Oh yes, he's been known to interrupt whatever I'm doing to read to me. He'll say 'Listen to this, Master' then read whatever it is and conclude with 'Isn't that fascinating'. I nod and try not to look as though my eyes have glazed over and I haven't actually heard one word of whatever he's been reading."

Dormé wondered if Anakin had done that with Padmé yet. She could imagine her lady's response and struggled not to giggle at the picture her mind presented her with.

"But that's just how he is," Obi-Wan continued fondly. "Always into the technical. Did you know that he used to routinely cause fires in the Temple as a boy?"

"No." Dormé smiled, relaxing a little at the thought of Anakin Skywalker starting fires. "He didn't."

"They were unintentional, of course. He was always working on some mechanical object or another and he'd power up whatever his latest project was only to have it burst into flames." He paused, the affection in his eyes bringing a lump to her throat. "Those were interesting moments, I tell you. I didn't know whether to throttle him or make him re-read the rules."

He cared for Anakin. It was sweet really. The sort of half exasperated yet proud talk a parent makes about a child. "Obviously you didn't throttle him."

"The provocation was extreme at times." Obi-Wan laughed, then shook his head. "No, Anakin wasn't nearly as much trouble as he could have been. Some of the things I expected never occurred and I must admit he's turned out far better than I ever could have dreamed he would."

Dormé put her chin in her hand and listened to more about Anakin. She wasn't really _listening_ to the stories, just Obi-Wan's voice. He had such a soothing voice...

* * *

You're boring her, Kenobi. Look at her, she's obviously uninterested in everything you're saying. That sigh, that far away look in her eyes. Talk to her and stop going on about Anakin. She's not interested in Anakin. 

But he couldn't stop talking. Oh dear, he hated it when he couldn't stop burbling. It didn't happen often and he thought he'd licked that problem long ago, but no, here it was rearing its ugly head. Stories of Anakin left his lips at an alarming rate and he realized he could talk and not pay any attention to what he was saying. He went on autopilot.

Finally, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and took a long drink of tea. Maybe if they left the café, he'd have an easier time with conversation. He wouldn't find himself distracted by the enticing press of her breasts at the top of her bodice. Obi-Wan looked at her half finished pastry. "You're not hungry, are you?"

"Not particularly, no." She shook her head with an apologetic air. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan."

"About what?" He paid their server and stood, holding out a hand to her.

"I wasted your credits." Dormé put her hand in his and stood.

Obi-Wan chuckled, reaching for her cloak and helping her into it. The fabric was soft and he was just enough taller than she to manage a quick glance down her bodice as he draped the cloak over her shoulders. For the hundredth time, he reminded himself to act his age, but it was terribly difficult when she was wearing that dress. He wanted to hug her under the cover of her cloak and slide his hands along the bare skin of her back and sides.

"They're not wasted. Don't ever think I've wasted anything on you, Dormé. My free time and credits are spent how I choose and I chose to spend both on you today."

A gallant answer that sounded sappy and sugary in his mind. Their fingers tangled together on the clasp of her cloak and she let him close it for her. He was pleasantly surprised when she took his arm, fitting her hand in the crook of his elbow as he'd seen courtiers on other worlds do. Really, he thought, that shouldn't surprise him in the least. Dormé had to know how to behave in various situations simply for her role in Padmé's life. She needed to be able to blend in and not attract attention to herself. She was well-educated in many areas.

They walked together in silence. What should they do now? Obi-Wan considered several options and discarded each one as silly or completely stupid. She'd probably already been to the zoo and the historical home of Coruscant's first restaurant owner likely wasn't high on her list of things to see. He'd certainly enjoyed the home, but no one else he knew thought it was anywhere near a good time. Besides, it was on the other side of Coruscant.

What about a show? No, he didn't wish to see anything that was being performed presently. The exotic gardens? That had promise except it wasn't really the right time of year for it. Half the garden would be dormant and she deserved to see it all in full bloom. The costume museum? No, he didn't wish to subject himself to looking at clothes all afternoon unless they were on his companion. What else was there in this area?

"Have you ever been to the Museum of Coruscant History?" Dormé squeezed his arm, turning her head to look up at him. "It's small compared to some of the others, but I think we could see it in only a couple hours if we try."

Hmm, he hadn't considered that museum. He hadn't been there since he was a child, walking behind Qui-Gon and thoroughly uninterested in the lecture the tour guide was giving them. Qui-Gon had insisted on the tour and Obi-Wan had hated every minute, until they'd returned outside and his Master had heaved a long sigh and remarked, 'Well that's done with. Shall we do something fun now?' Qui-Gon hadn't enjoyed the museum either.

"No," he lied with a smile. "I've never been."

They strolled slowly towards the entrance, taking their time and Obi-wan snuck glances at her. The light was hitting her face just right. She looked absolutely beautiful. Silly lines of bad poetry he'd once memorized for a class fixed irritatingly in his brain.

Sweet Amaris, love of all time, my heart patters and lips long for yours...

He wanted to kiss her, to put his arms around her and draw her close, but it was too early for that, wasn't it? Next time they met would be far more appropriate, wouldn't it? It wouldn't do to rush her into anything. They were two adults and they'd handle this accordingly.

Besides, there were still too many people about for comfort in a public display of the affection he felt for her. He could imagine with great clarity the kidding he'd get and even the practical jokes.

Heavens help him if Mace caught word of Dormé. Obi-Wan would be hearing references to Naboo sweethearts and lucky ladies for months. Not to mention those practical jokes Mace excelled in. If he was lucky, the only thing that would happen is he'd find Dormé's name painted on his underwear when it returned from the laundry. If he was lucky. Obi-Wan didn't think he'd be that lucky. Only a few knew what was really going on behind Mace's cool exterior and Obi-wan was one of the few. Mace had a wickedly dry sense of humor.

A sudden thought cooled him even more. Surely Anakin wouldn't say anything to anyone? Beads of sweat gathered on his brow. Anakin _had_ had that mischievous look in his eyes that guaranteed he'd do just about anything. There was a sickening lurching sensation in his belly and he glanced over his shoulder, fully expecting to see his Padawan behind them. What was Anakin up to? Had he followed him and was even now hoping to sneak a picture of his Master in a torrid, passionate clinch with Dormé? Obi-Wan could imagine that turn of events without even trying. He didn't sense Anakin nearby, however it wouldn't be the first time his Padawan had conned a friend into doing his dirty work. Obi-Wan remembered a couple of rather gullible friends of Anakin's that were on Coruscant right now...

Maybe he and Dormé could find a nice, secluded exhibit and he'd steal a kiss from her there. Yes, that was a plan. An exhibit away from the crowds where he could safely kiss Dormé without anyone seeing him.

* * *

She was ready, waiting and willing. So why didn't he kiss her already? Dormé had been trying to throw off 'kiss me' vibes ever since they'd left the café and it had almost seemed to work. He'd had that look on his face and the tilt to his head that usually meant a kiss was seconds away. She'd thought it finally certain and waited breathless for him to stop her and lean down to her. 

He stepped back instead, leaving her confused. Why was he waiting? Did she have pastry between her teeth or something? Dormé turned her head aside, running her tongue across her teeth. When she turned back, he had a horrified expression she didn't even try to decode.

What did I do to cause that look, she wondered as Obi-Wan glanced behind them. Was there someone back there? She also looked, half expecting to see Ellé or Moteé to be there, waiting to snap a picture they could later tease her with. There was no one and she went into the museum with her companion.

* * *

"He does so like her," Anakin repeated for the tenth time, idly drawing imaginary circles on his beloved's bare stomach, knowing full well that she was ticklish right there. He loved making her laugh. And smile, and sigh happily and wiggle... 

Padmé wiggled with a giggle. "Anakin stop it, that tickles! Come on, please?" She swatted at his hand.

"I can predict exactly what will happen," he said raising up onto one arm and sitting, briefly conceding defeat in his tickle attack on her stomach. "They'll have tea and maybe go to a museum and that'll be all. He won't kiss her or touch her in any fashion that might be considered improper. Obi-Wan isn't the type to jump his date, even if he might want to."

"Unlike you."

Anakin laughed. "I don't jump my dates. Only you, and I have good reason to jump you, my lovely, ravishing lady." She shook her head, fanning her hair out on the pillow and arching her back in a manner that distracted him for several long moments. When he remembered the conversation, he sat back up. "No, my Master will be proper if it kills him. He will not break a vow. No matter how enticing she looks, she'll be disappointed in the end. He may like her, but he won't act on it. It'll never happen."

She rolled over and began pressing kisses to his chest and once more, he forgot all about Obi-Wan.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M

Chapter Three

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

The museum was boring. Dormé had never been so bored in her entire life. She turned, pretending to study the portrait behind them on the wall as she smothered a yawn. Her 'kiss me' vibes were beginning to wane. Boredom was winning out. She'd only suggested the museum because there were a wealth of shadowed nooks and crannies they could cuddle together in, thus increasing the chance of passionate and unrestrained kisses. 

But it was becoming obvious that they weren't going to do anything that would get them thrown out of the museum. Pity. She really wanted him to kiss her. Dormé dreamed of being enfolded into his arms and cradled against him as his lips sought hers. She wouldn't even mind if his hands roamed. In fact, she'd _prefer_ it. A few liberties would be appreciated and she was more than willing to allow them.

When was the last time she'd been on a date? She struggled to recall it and was dismayed to find she couldn't remember. There was not even a glimmer of memory as to when she'd last been kissed and by whom. Not good, she decided. Not good at all.

I have to get out more. Surely Padmé will understand. After all, she's got Anakin. She has to understand these things a bit more now. Or at least she _should_, considering how they behave together.

Dormé turned back to her companion, finding him watching her with a warm light in his blue eyes. Her heartbeat quickened as he took a step closer. Oh, yes. This was good. Closeness was a good thing. Obi-Wan's hand touched her arm, slid down to grasp her hand in his. Their fingers twined together. His other hand raised to her jaw, cupping tenderly.

Her lips parted in anticipation. It's about time, she thought. Dormé raised her chin a notch, hoping she wouldn't go into a full out swoon the second he kissed her, though it was highly likely considering she'd been dreaming about such a moment for weeks. The reality might be too much for her.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

Obi-Wan decided the time was right. They were in a secluded area of the museum, practically hidden near a stairwell and he didn't think he could wait much longer to kiss her. No one could see them. They had complete privacy. He leaned closer, taking a quick sniff of her perfume. Delicate and fragrant. He could feel anticipation thrumming in the air and was actively moving in for the kiss when he heard a young female voice from his right elbow. 

"Eww, you're playing kissy-face!"

"Oh gross," came a second voice, this one male and just as young.

Obi-Wan paused, glancing askance, a breath away from Dormé. He blinked, wondered if Anakin had paid these two to interrupt them and decided even Anakin wouldn't be so devious. Mace on the other hand... He straightened.

"Are you married," the girl asked, studying them with curious eyes.

"No, we're not," Dormé said with a smile, loosening herself and taking a step from him. She clasped her hands together. The pose would have been serene had he not noticed how tightly her hands clenched. She wasn't any more pleased than he at being interrupted.

The boy scrunched up his nose, circling them and stopping with his face nearly pressed to Obi-Wan's lightsaber. "Is this a lightsaber? Are you a Jedi? Are you both Jedi?" His eyes were wide, excitement brimming in them. "Are you, are you, are you?"

"I am," Obi-Wan replied as courteously as he could manage with his visions of kissing Dormé shriveling to dust. He certainly couldn't kiss her with these to watching, so he resigned himself to waiting.

"Wow," the girl grinned, bouncing up and down on the soles of her feet. "Can _I_ marry you then? I wanna marry a Jedi. That'd be so neat!"

"Jedi aren't allowed to marry," Obi-Wan informed them, though the boy wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy pretending to wield a lightsaber and making obnoxious humming noises as he endangered what Obi-Wan assumed were centuries old artifacts.

The girl now crossed her arms, giving them both a critical and suspicious stare. "Then why were you kissing the pretty lady? My mommy says that only married people kiss and if you're not married she's gonna end up pregnant."

Dormé began to cough.

"Well, that's not exactly how--" Obi-Wan began, wishing Dormé would perhaps help him out here. She seemed to be having trouble breathing though... No, he realized, she wasn't coughing, she was snickering in a most unladylike fashion. He raised a brow at her, which only served to strengthen her snickers.

"Show me your lightsaber," the boy yelled, tugging hard enough on Obi-Wan's tunic to make him stagger. "Please! I really wanna see one and mom never lets me see anything cool like that." He began that annoying pretend lightsaber humming again, swooping about in a fight with an imaginary opponent.

"Not today and not in the museum."

"Oh, you're no fun," the boy stomped his feet with a scowl.

"Are you pregnant," the girl asked Dormé, stretching out a hand and poking her in the side.

"That was not nice," Dormé said sternly, though the effect was marred, in Obi-Wan's opinion, by her continued snickers. "You don't ask people that."

"Why not? I wanna know. You were kissing the Jedi, so you must be gonna have a baby."

"I wasn't kissing the Jedi."

"Yes, you were. I saw you. You had the same look on your face my mommy gets before she and daddy do that. You were kissing him. Kissy, kissy, kissy."

"No, I wasn't." Her chuckles tapered off and a scowl darkened her brow as the girl continued to insist that Dormé had been kissing the Jedi. "I was not, at any time, kissing the Jedi."

"Yes, you were."

"Was not."

"Jedi and pretty lady sitting in a tree," the girl began singing.

"Mean old Jedi," the boy muttered.

Obi-Wan took Dormé's hand and edged around the two children, but they followed. The boy continued to whine about seeing the lightsaber. Obi-Wan strode back into one large exhibit, Dormé in tow, wondering where he'd heard that song before. It struck a chord of memory that wouldn't quite harmonize properly.

"--Then comes marriage, then comes the Jedi with a baby carriage."

There seemed to be no other patrons in the museum today, annoyance pricking at him. Come on, the children didn't just appear out of nowhere. Someone here had to be responsible for them.

"Jedi and pretty lady sitting in a tree," the girl began again at the top of her lungs, "k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage--"

"Jedi can't marry," Obi-Wan reminded her, looking about for someone that might possibly be the parent, guardian or teacher of these two obnoxious children. He liked children, really he did, but these two were the worst he'd seen in a long time. Ill-mannered, loud and the general sort that were a good argument for birth control.

Where _had_ he heard that song?

The boy appeared to lose interest in them as he spied an exhibit of glass artifacts. He hurried to them, staring at the objects with an expression on his face that Obi-Wan recognized. Not all Jedi children were well-behaved at all times and he'd seen that look enough times to know that trouble was soon coming.

"Then comes the Jedi with a baby carriage." The girl began an eighth chorus, dancing now as she sang, her shoes making a rhythmic clacking on the smooth hard floor, and Obi-Wan finally remembered where he'd heard it before.

Anakin.

His suspicion was right, wasn't it? Anakin knew these children. He'd paid them or _something_ to follow his Master. He was here in the building, snickering at the discomfort he was causing...

No, Obi-Wan thought. That's paranoia. Anakin is not following you. You left him at the Temple. Nor did he pay off two kids to irritate you. He'd rather irritate you himself if at all possible.

Just then, the boy reached into the exhibit and grabbed one of the glass objects.

* * *

"You're imagining things, Padmé." Anakin chewed the piece of fruit she fed him as he considered her vocal musings. 

"And you're not seeing what's there. I tell you, Obi-Wan Kenobi has a wild streak that he hides under that 'veneer of dullness', as you called it."

"He does not," he argued. He couldn't remember his Master ever being anything but a model Jedi. Patient, courteous and inclined give to lectures in the use of caution, discretion and tact at the drop of a cloak. "He'd never resort to behavior 'unbecoming a Jedi', and I say that because it's true."

"He wouldn't, huh?" She arched a brow with a knowing smile that sent hormones flooding his body in a rush. Anakin loved that smile. It hinted of things he wasn't supposed to have anything to do with. "You obviously didn't see Dormé's dress."

"Really?" He raised his brows in question. "What, did she wear something that shows an ankle? No, I know, her dress didn't cover her entire neck."

Padmé made a face at him and set the bowl of fruit aside. "It was a dress for seduction, Anakin."

"Ooh," he laughed, "she wore something that came to her knees instead of the floor."

"Shows what you know," Padmé shoved his shoulder. "It was like my purple dress. Almost exactly like it."

"Which one? You've got about seven."

"The dark purple with the slits up the sides and the top cut here..." She trailed off, drawing imaginary lines on her chest, stomach and sides. "You _remember_?" There was a blush on her cheeks.

Anakin's mouth opened as he recalled the dress she was talking about. Yeah, he remembered that dress. Bare skin and enticing shadow glimpses of pale limbs when she walked. He grinned. Luscious curves near to bursting from the strips of fabric. He'd been waiting for her when she'd come in from... "Seduction? Padmé, you wore yours to the opera." He frowned.

Padmé laughed. "Well, I knew you'd be waiting for me when I got back. I was looking forward to your reaction." She settled against him, stroking her hand across his chest. "I planned that dress for you."

"And Dormé has one like it?" That seemed odd to him, considering the handmaiden's propensity for covering up. Sometimes it was difficult to tell that she even had a nice figure. It wasn't as nice as Padmé's, but it was nice enough. He held his wife close. "Poor Obi-Wan doesn't stand a chance."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M

Chapter Four

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Hey all. Going on vacation. I'll have another chapter ready when I return. Look for it aroundDecember 1.

* * *

Mean old Jedi. He'd fix him good. 

Kidik ignored his sister Kedek as he plotted out the perfect revenge. That Jedi should have shown him the lightsaber. He'd show him. Uncle Sarat would be along any time now looking for them and he'd make sure that Jedi got in trouble.

He reached for one of the glass objects Uncle Sarat told them never to touch and snatched it from the exhibit, throwing it as hard as he could at the wall, just as Uncle Sarat came around the corner. As he'd hoped, the Jedi stopped the object with those awesome powers a Jedi had and Uncle Sarat saw him.

Kidik smiled a smug little smile and watched the show.

Mean old Jedi. _Now_ he was sorry.

* * *

It had been a very long time since Obi-Wan had found himself scathingly reprimanded and not long enough. Once, he had been embarrassed by a lecture such as he was receiving from a museum administrator, but as he was not in the wrong this time, he was more annoyed than anything else. 

The man giving him the dressing down was small in stature, barely reaching Obi-Wan's chin when on tiptoes -- as he was spending most of the lecture. He went on and on, scarcely pausing to take a breath and Obi-Wan had the idle thought that he must be a relative to some of the more long winded politicians.

The man stopped suddenly, leaning forward and peering at him closely. When he continued, his voice held a tinge of outrage that had not previously been present. "I certainly remember _you_ now, yes I do. I should have known."

"Me?" Obi-Wan pointed to himself.

Dormé was behind him now, not saying a single word. He had the feeling she was greatly embarrassed by this turn of events. She'd been silent since the appearance of this man.

"Of course I remember you. Those Jedi..._teenagers_ a couple years ago. There were two or three of them and the tall one had a smart mouth on him that wouldn't quit. Quite impertinent."

Unease trickled over him, growing steadily into an ocean. This man did look somewhat familiar. He thought back, endeavoring to place him in memory.

"Causing trouble in _my_ museum. Playing with the artifacts. That tall one showing off. For his friends. For the girls that followed them around. You're the one we contacted about them. The teacher or guardian or _whatever_ you are. You tried to keep it quiet."

Uh-oh. He remembered now. Anakin and two of his friends had gone to the museum on an assignment for a class and unwisely let their inner mischievous imps have free reign. They'd gotten caught and Obi-Wan had been contacted about it, a museum representative showing up at the Temple with security holos of what had happened. The incident had prompted Anakin to be a model student for an entire six days without mishap. Obi-Wan remembered speaking to some officious little jerk who'd railed and screamed for nearly an hour before they'd agreed to simply restrict Anakin and his cohorts in mischief from the museum -- probably Anakin's plan in the first place.

That jerk was this man. Obi-Wan had tried to block the incident from memory and succeeded remarkably until now.

"You sir, are old enough to know better than to show off like that for your girlfriend. Although I suppose I know where that tall boy got it from, don't I?"

"I wasn't--"

"_Don't_ I?" The little man drew himself up taller, the top of his head almost at Obi-Wan's chin now.

"I beg your pardon," Obi-Wan exclaimed. "I would never play around with priceless and undoubtedly expensive artifacts. I have a bit more respect for the work it takes to--"

"Guards!" The man wasn't listening to him. "Escort these two from the building. See to it that they are not allowed back inside." He pointed a finger at Obi-Wan. "Your image, sir, will be up at the front doors. Do not expect to ever gain entrance to this museum again."

If he really wanted, he could take care of this situation with a pass of his hand, but the damage was done. At least, he consoled himself, he had an excuse to never come here again.

The two children were by the door.

"Bye pretty lady and Jedi," she girl said, waving cheerfully at them as they passed by.

The boy stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.

Obi-Wan managed to resist the urge to make a like face and walked from the museum with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. With a turn of his head, he saw that Dormé had drawn her cloak up so that the hood completely hid her from view. Somehow, he didn't think he'd be getting a kiss any time soon.

* * *

Luck was certainly not with her. First, those wretched children interrupted what Dormé was sure would have been a wonderful kiss and then to have Sarat show up right when Obi-Wan was trying to save that artifact the little boy had thrown. 

She edged behind Obi-Wan, slowly drawing up her hood to cover her face. Please, she thought. Don't let Sarat recognize me! She'd never live it down if Sarat told Padmé and he most certainly would. He'd consider it his duty to inform his Senatorial acquaintance what her employee had been up to.

But, Sarat was too busy chewing out Obi-Wan over the artifact to even glance at her. Still, it might be better if she just didn't say anything. Sarat had a memory for voices that was phenomenal and he'd heard her voice several times. It was a relief when they were out of the museum.

After a while of strolling, she stopped him, lowering her hood. "You were far more diplomatic than I would have been after being unjustly accused. You didn't have to be so calm."

"Of course I did." His smile was slow and gentle. "I could do nothing else. What use would it have been to become angry? I knew I had done nothing wrong."

"I probably would have begun arguing in earnest with him." She threaded her arm once more through his and they strolled slowly along. She was reluctant to give up their time together. So where, she wondered, could they go? It was the wrong time of year for the exotic gardens and would he really want to look at flowers anyway? In her experience, men didn't usually enjoy flowers.

How about the costume museum? Dormé quickly discarded that idea after having been thrown out of the Museum of Coruscant History. Two museums in one day was a bit much, even if there was an exhibit she really wanted to see there. For years, the costumes of her favorite holomovie adventure series had been scrutinized and reproduced by the fans, but now the actual costumes were on display. Thirty of the beautiful costumes were in a lavish, elaborate and well-publicized exhibit that had visitors coming to it from all over the galaxy. Dormé was dying to go to it and had been working for years now on a costume in her spare time -- which meant progress on it was _really_ slow. She was excruciatingly slow at both embroidery and bead work and the costume she'd chosen to reproduce had both in copious amounts. She wondered where she'd put the costume when she put it away last.

Oh, she'd love to see the dress Amé wore when she first realized her love for Ken! Or the nearly see-through dress Amé had worn for the first kiss! She'd even like to see the sexy black number Amé had worn when denying her love for Ken, though in Dormé's opinion, anyone that wore something like that to turn a guy down didn't know men very well.

Dormé sighed. Such pretty costumes. But...she doubted very much that Obi-Wan would be interested in looking at clothes. She'd probably bore him with her enthusiasm over the embroidery and bead work. So, no costume museum today. She'd just plan to have Moteé go with her later this week.

Back to square one. What about the historical home of Coruscant's first restaurant owner? No, she decided. She was the only person she knew who'd enjoyed that tour. Ellé _still_ rolled her eyes when it was mentioned, though the teasing remarks had long ago faded. Besides, it was getting late and the home was clear on the other side of Coruscant.

A show perhaps? No, she couldn't be out all night even it Padmé and Anakin would like the time together. Late nights and early mornings didn't mix and she had to be up early. Padmé had an early meeting, as in the crack of dawn and Dormé had drawn the lot to go with her. Sometimes she wondered if Ellé and Moteé had that fixed. They almost never had to go to the early meetings with Padmé...

So what was left? The zoo. They could go to the zoo. The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed. It was late enough in the afternoon that parents would be taking their children home and still early enough that those planning an evening excursion would be eating dinner first. They'd have the place to themselves and she knew what _that_ hinted at. Dark buildings they could snuggle in, secluded places where he could finally kiss her, and plenty of privacy.

Dormé turned her head, smiling up at him. "I haven't been to the zoo in years. Would you be interested?"

She waited for his answer.

* * *

He wasn't particularly interested in the zoo, but rather in the opportunities it would present. Obi-Wan greeted her suggestion with enthusiasm, hoping it would turn out better than the museum. He hated to think their luck ran to horrible encounters with children twice in one day. 

Once inside, he guided her towards the large cat cages. Dormé slipped her hand into his. They gave the cages a cursory glance, then a longer glance when Obi-Wan didn't see any of the animals there. "That's odd," he remarked. "Usually these animals are right up close to the glass."

"Maybe it's time for their dinner," Dormé suggested, tugging him along the walkway. "Oh, no, look! There they..." Her smile faded as quickly as it had formed. "Never mind."

He couldn't not look after that, could he? Obi-Wan searched for the animals and found them. Well now, he thought. Isn't that nice. It must be mating season. Boy, they're _really_ energetic. Did I ever have that much energy... He let Dormé tug him away from the cages.

* * *

Padmé was getting bored. What in blazes was Anakin doing? He'd left the bedroom to get them something to drink about ten minutes earlier and not returned. Heaving an impatient sigh, she found her robe, a flimsy square of fabric that would provide no coverage if anyone suddenly walked into the apartment, and left the room in search of her beloved. 

She found him in the kitchen, elbows on the counter and attention on a datapad, two drinks forgotten by his left elbow. "Ani?"

He didn't move, tapping one finger on the pad. Padmé struck a pose, artfully arranging the sheer material. "Oh Ani?" He still didn't move. She changed poses and tried again. "Oh _Loverboy_?" His attention remained on the datapad. What was so interesting about it? Padmé frowned. She thought she'd put away anything close to a technical manual before he'd arrived.

"Hmm." Anakin tapped it again.

"What are you doing," she asked. "I thought you were bringing the drinks back."

He held his hand out, wiggling a finger at her. "Come here. Listen to this. It's fascinating--"

Going to him, Padmé wrenched the datapad from him, gave it a glance and sent it sliding along the counter away from them with a flick of her wrist. "You do _not_ need to know how to repair the refrigeration unit."

"But," he began, stretching a hand out. She knew she had to act fast or he'd have that datapad back in a second and would be _reading_ to her. Not that she minded listening to the sound of his voice, but he never read anything actually interesting to her. She'd much prefer a legal paper or something in that vein, but Anakin always picked out the driest, most boring technical manuals.

Padmé put her hands on his face, moving it so he was looking at her instead of the direction of the datapad. Then, for added measure, she thrust her chest upwards and wiggled. "Anakin."

He stared at her a moment, his glance going up and down her. "Hey."

"Drinks?"

"Yeah," he smiled, hands on her waist. "You look really good naked. You should be naked more often."

"I don't think that would be appropriate in the Senate." She placed her hands on his chest.

"You'd probably have lot more support on some issues."

Padmé didn't have an answer to that. He was right. That would bring about support. Some of her fellow Senators were a lecherous lot.

His hands squeezed gently. "This room has possibilities."

"Possibilities?" Padmé shook her head. What was he talking about? It didn't need redecorating. She'd just had the kitchen updated.

Nodding, Anakin looked around. "Uh-huh. I've been doing some reading and I think the counter is just about the right height..." She found herself back up against the counter and lifted onto it. Anakin grinned. "Perfect."

"Perfect?"

Anakin stepped back, looking her up and down again in a way that was making her feel very warm. "Okay, now don't move. I'll be right back."

"But--" He was already through the doorway, muttering to himself. Before she could jump down, he was back, holding a camera in one hand. "Oh no! Ani you are not!"

"Come on, Padmé. I'll erase it immediately. Let me take one, please?" He gave her that adorable sad longing expression.

"No!"

He walked over and set the camera down on the counter. "So, you'll undress before security cameras, but you won't let your husband take one little picture?" Raising a finger to punctuate, he repeated, "_One_ little picture."

"That's different," she protested, though she couldn't really see how it was different when he put it that way.

"I won't put your face in the picture." His hands were warm on her arms, lips pressing kisses across her cheeks, with an occasional brush to her mouth. "Please? I'll take one picture and you can erase it. Okay?"

What would be the harm, she thought. One picture...

An hour later and back in her bedroom, Anakin sat up, frowning at the camera. "Hey, uh, Padmé? I think we used up the memory card..."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M

Chapter Five

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

* * *

He was not going to kiss her. Dormé had completely given up hope of that happening. Oh well, she thought. Perhaps another day. She was hot in the cloak, so she took it off, draping it across her arm. They had seen the exotic birds, the reptiles and tried again to see the large cats. The cats were all mating, so they'd decided to skip them completely. 

Obi-Wan wanted to see the arachnids. Dormé wasn't particularly thrilled with the arachnids until she noticed how dark the building was. Inside, she snuggled close, ignoring the spiders for the most part. Obi-Wan put his arm around her and she sighed, resting against him. There was such a lean strength to his body. She could lean against him all day and not tire of it.

Dormé stared at the glass cage at the end of the row, wondering just where the spider in that one was. It had to be a strange kind of spider because she couldn't see it in there. Maybe it was one that changed colors? A chameleon spider. She squinted, and felt the tickling of Obi-Wan's fingers on her side. He touched her waist, slid up to the lower edge of her shirt, then along the strip of fabric that connected the top and skirt.

She smiled. Maybe she shouldn't give up hope for a kiss just yet. The movement of his fingers was soft and tickling. Teasing, she decided was an apt word for it. There was just enough pressure for her to feel it, yet not enough that it was groping. Dormé imagined what would happen next as she continued to stare at the glass cage. He was going to slip his hand beneath the fabric, then turn slightly, managing in the process to encircle her with that arm. His other arm would go around her or perhaps he'd touch her face like he had before those children had come along. That would be nice. And then...

She blinked, squinting at the cage again. It looked like the lid was off the top of it.

Oh well, no matter. Obi-Wan was going to kiss her. She could tell by the way his fingers stroked her side.

"That is one huge spider," he said, bringing his arm from around her and pointing at the glass where a particularly ugly and furry brand of arachnid rested. "I don't think I've ever seen one so ugly."

Okay, his arm was no longer around her, so how come she still felt his hand on her side?

She gulped. "Obi-Wan? Is that a spider on my side?" She stayed very still. She wasn't close enough to read the description of the spider in that last cage, but with her luck, it was poisonous. "Tell me it isn't."

He turned his head, immediately looking for the cause of her distress. He found it as soon as he stepped behind her.

"Oh dear."

The words did not put her at ease. Nor did his cautious tone.

"All right, Dormé, don't move."

"Get it off me," she squeaked out.

"I'm working on it. Patience."

Patience? Was he crazy? She had a spider on her, as in touching her skin, and he wanted her to be patient? "Get it off me, get it _off_ me."

A minute later, she was out the door, clinging to him and crying, her body shaking. He found a bench and pulled her down onto his lap, holding her close. Dormé buried her face in his neck, sniffling and gulping as she tried to calm down.

"Shh. It's okay." She was shifted on his lap, his efforts to tug her closer scrunching her skirt up on her leg. He grasped bare leg, squeezed. A tiny almost pained noise left his throat as he maneuvered her and Dormé was further mortified by the idea that she must be too heavy for him. The idea was enhanced when he touched her leg again and readjusted her some more.

I'm fat, aren't I, she thought. I'm probably crushing his legs and he's not saying one word about it.

"It wasn't poisonous. It didn't bite you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He examined her side anyway, sweeping his fingers along the skin for several long minutes and pronouncing her bite free. "No bite. You're fine."

For the next half hour, she wondered just how idiotic she'd looked, getting so worked up over a spider. His suggestion of food gave her plenty of time to calm down and regain her composure. He had to think she was a silly typical female, screaming her head off over a simple spider.

By the time it was their turn to order food, she decided there was no point in eating a dainty salad or sandwich. She'd already squashed his legs, so he probably wouldn't be surprised by her appetite. Dormé ordered the biggest burger she could, one that came with all the trimmings and enjoyed every bite.

* * *

Obi-Wan had seen many spiders in his life, but never one quite like that one. It was the size of a man's hand and had inch long fangs. He didn't take the time to read about it, except to note it was extremely poisonous and the venom caused death within seconds of a bite. He was very impressed with Dormé's reaction. She didn't lose her head or anything while in the building, but rather announced fairly calmly what needed done. 

The spider, luckily, had dropped from her and scurried into the shadows before he had a chance to squash it. Just as well he hadn't had to touch it.

He settled her onto his lap, accidentally touching her bare leg and 'accidentally' touching it again when she didn't slap his hand away. Accidentally, he thought. Get a grip on yourself. You're truly pathetic, Kenobi. Absolutely and utterly so. Any excuse to get close to her. She sees right through you. Why wouldn't she when you're mewling like a contented kitten when you come into contact with skin?

For that matter, why shouldn't he make such noises? Her skin was silky and smooth. What would it feel like to run his hands all along her legs, from thigh to ankle and back up? He glanced down, noticed he could really see down her shirt the way she was pressed against him. The curve of her right breast appeared about to slip from the confines of the top. If she moved a little more towards him...

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and smiled pleasantly at two women walking by them.

Once she began to calm down, it didn't take long. He felt her relax, the tension slipping away from her. She was rather concerned about being bitten, so he checked her side for bites. Or, far more accurately, he used the excuse of checking for a bite to touch her side. To linger and stroke her skin as he wanted. It _was_ an excuse too. Poor and transparent. She had to be thinking he was being creepy. She was being polite again, not mentioning that he must be making her uncomfortable.

Obi-Wan lifted his hand from her, telling her she wasn't bitten. He hadn't wanted the moment to end, but what could he do?

"Shall we stop and have something to eat? I'm a bit hungry after that adventure." How stupid did that sound? Was she really going to be in the mood for food?

To his surprise, she agreed, and polished off a sandwich of such large proportions that even Anakin would have had trouble eating it all and that boy could eat. He was in awe of her appetite and the fact that she didn't order something small, like a salad. He'd noticed that many women tended to order very little food. Did they think men would think they always ate so little?

Obi-Wan watched her relish the burger as she usually did her pastry at the café. He liked a woman that was not afraid to eat well with him. He liked her more and more.

Briefly, he wondered if Anakin was getting anything done.

* * *

"What do you mean it won't erase?" Padmé's words carried enough panic for about ten people. 

Anakin shot his beloved a sulky glare. What did she mean what did he mean? He'd said it plainly hadn't he? The stupid camera wouldn't erase the stupid pictures. They had a full memory card of risqué photos of both of them and the camera wasn't erasing any of them. Nothing he did made them go away.

"Follow the directions."

"I _am_ following them, Padmé. Push this button, highlight delete and click it. It should be working."

"You must be doing something wrong then."

With a snort, he shoved it at her. "Fine. You try it."

"Fine, I will." She didn't have any luck either. "It's stuck or something. Can't you fix it? You fix everything."

"Got a manual for it?" He didn't miss the look of panic on her face. It was almost identical to the one Obi-Wan had gotten when he'd been reading him the funny bits from the holovid manual a couple weeks earlier. He frowned. Why did everyone have that reaction when he had a manual out?

"No. Well...I think Dormé does somewhere."

"Dormé?" He took the camera back and shook it, though he knew very well that shaking it wouldn't change anything. "Why would _she_ have the manual?"

Padmé shrugged miserably. "It's her camera. I just borrowed it last week and hadn't returned it yet."

He blinked, laughed with disbelief. "And you couldn't mention this _before_ we started taking pictures?"

"It worked fine at first." She put her hands on her hips. "It worked fine until you started snapping pictures every two seconds."

"You were snapping pictures just as fast or don't you remember that, _milady_?"

"Don't put this on me, Anakin. It was your idea."

"You didn't say no," he shot back, then amended, "well, after the first no, you didn't say no." He knew nothing about this brand of camera except the usual point and click. Still, how hard could erasing a few pictures be? It had to be a simple thing that they were just not doing right. Didn't it? "We'll figure it out."

* * *

Once more, Dormé was bored. The zoo wasn't as fun as she remembered it being. The refreshments they'd had made her feel faintly ill and she still wasn't feeling normal after that run-in in the arachnid section. Obi-Wan had been trying to cheer her up since then. They approached a Simian cage. Several of the creatures were close to the bars, jumping about and screeching as they approached. As they watched, the creatures would wait until a person was near and then try and startle them. 

Squaring his shoulders, Obi-Wan stepped to the cage, keeping eye contact with one of the creatures. Unlike the previous person, Obi-Wan didn't fall back startled. He turned the tables, taking a stomping step to the bars and growling.

Dormé laughed.

The creatures squawked. He repeated the sequence several times, until none of the animals would return to the bars. Dormé giggled more.

"Um...Excuse me, sir?"

She glanced to her right. Two men stood there. They wore Zoo uniforms and had grave expressions. She exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan, who straightened and smiled. "Hello."

"We're going to have to ask you to leave."

"I beg your pardon?" He tilted his head as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why?"

She didn't believe it herself. Were they really being kicked out of the zoo?

The men looked at the creatures, then at him. "You're scaring the animals. We're going to have to ask you to leave."

In five minutes, they were out the front gates, the two security guards watching them until they'd turned the corner.

"I've never heard of anyone being thrown out of a zoo before," Dormé remarked, resettling her cloak into place about her and realizing, in the process, that she was dangerously close to popping out of her shirt. As quickly as she could, she half turned from Obi-Wan and shoved her curves back under the fabric. They, of course, didn't cooperate, and she was afraid she looked like she was having a seizure as she struggled with the top.

Obi-Wan glanced askance at her and straightened his tunic. "Me either. Apparently it _is_ possible." His glance swept her. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." She dragged the edges of the cloak over her and tried to think up something else for them to do.

* * *

This day was not going well. Suffice it to say, it was the worst date he'd ever had. Dormé was a trooper though. She wasn't nearly as embarrassed about getting thrown out of two places in a single day as he'd thought she'd be. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of another thing for them to do. They'd pretty much run out of options in this area and he didn't think they'd better stop for a few drinks. Who knew what would happen if the two of them got even the slightest bit tipsy. Her dress could start a riot in the bar. He'd have to defend her honor and get them thrown out of a third place in one day. Or worse, Anakin would show up with some of his friends after having snuck out of the Temple and see it happen. 

No, that wasn't the worst thing that could happen. The worst thing that could happen would be for all of that, _and _for a tabloid reporter to be there along with Mace Windu. Obi-Wan's fertile imagination churned out horrible images of that happening. The humiliation would be excruciating.

As he straightened his tunic, he noticed she appeared to be having some sort of wardrobe malfunction. He caught sight of her curves overflowing her shirt before she turned her back. Perhaps he should pretend he didn't notice that she looked like she was having a seizure as she fixed it. Really, did it matter if she overflowed? He certainly wouldn't mind any. But of course, she might be worried about modesty...

In _that_ dress, he drawled to himself. You've got to be kidding, Kenobi.

He held out his arm for his companion. "Shall we stroll for a bit? The evening is warm still."

"A stroll sounds wonderful." She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and they headed for the park nearby.

The park was nice and safe. There was nothing that could get them thrown out and no one to bother them. It would be the perfect place to finally kiss her.

* * *

"You broke it." Padmé hit the on/off button several times, shaking her head as the 'on light' remained on. For the past five minutes, they'd been reassembling the camera and now the power light wouldn't turn off. He thought they'd put it back together right. Guess he was wrong. 

"No, technically, _you're_ the one who broke it," he returned, assuming she'd agree with that assessment. After all, it had been her bright idea to take the camera apart in the first place.

Boy was he wrong.

Her glare was icy enough that he felt a cold chill in the air. "How do you figure that... _Anakin_?"

"Because..." Uh-oh. Angry wife high noon. He took in her darkening expression and decided he'd better diffuse her fast. Come up with something ... It was admirable to tell the truth, but somehow he knew that reminding her it had been her idea would get him in bigger trouble than he'd ever been in. And he might lose his other hand. Or something else. She had that dangerous gleam going on in her eyes. Not good. Not good at all. He had a bad feeling about this. "Because... it...uh... took pictures of you and wants to hold on to them so much that it's fighting losing them."

Her eyes narrowed, lips tightening.

"Because you told me..."

Now she was reaching for her real robe, that big heavy fuzzy one that covered her neck to floor and made her look twice as wide as she really was when she had it fastened. Once she got that on, he knew there'd be no coaxing it off of her.

Suck it up, he thought. Just admit it whether it's true or not. You did it, it's all your fault. Spit it out before she decides you shouldn't bother sneaking in the next time you're back on Coruscant. "Okay, I broke it, but it's nothing to worry about." He smiled at her, turning on the charm as best he could with that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Come on, Padmé, cut me some slack here. Relax. Come back to bed. Let's get rid of that cold chill in the air.

"What if she sees the pictures?"

Yeah, that could be embarrassing. Thank heavens he wouldn't be here when that happened. "Then we come clean and admit to it. She knows we're married. She won't think a thing of it." He hoped.

Gradually, Padmé relaxed, climbing back on the bed and against him. "I don't like lying to her."

"We won't lie," he told her in a soothing tone. "We'll just...not tell the entire truth unless she asks." That was okay, right?

"Okay, but I'm buying her a new camera. First thing tomorrow."

Whatever makes you happy, he thought to himself, running a hand along her side. Her skin was so silky. Anakin could run his hands over her all day and not get tired of it. His glance turned across the room to the refresher. They should take a shower. They were all sweaty. A shower would be good. He could slide his hands over her some more and make the last little bit of her irritation over the camera melt away.

Shower, here we come.

Padmé readily agreed with that plan and he made sure to spend an extra long time smoothing the soap over her body. It wasn't until they were drying off that he realized it was the exact same scent as her perfume. He had it all over him too. Anakin sniffed at his arm. The delicate fragrance smelled sinful on his wife, but it didn't smell that good on him. Oh great. How was he going to explain _that_ to Obi-Wan? He could almost see his Master's raised brows and hear him asking what in blazes he'd done this time?

His beloved distracted him with a kiss and he followed her back to bed once more, banishing the image of Obi-Wan from his mind.

* * *

The park was dark, with lovely shadows to linger in. Dormé was pleasantly surprised when Obi-Wan tugged her into the first shadowed copse they found and drew her close. 

"Have I mentioned how pretty you look today," he asked, maneuvering her in his arms so that she was embraced quite snugly.

The heat from his body washed over her and she slid her hands up his arms to clasp behind his neck. She let her thumbs ruffle his hair a little as she waited for him to go on. If they didn't kiss soon, she thought she'd explode from wanting. "Oh, you mentioned it once."

"I must say it again, Dormé." There was a grin on his lips and an intriguing twinkle in his eyes. It was mischievous and warm. "You look absolutely lovely."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Are you saying I look pretty?"

She smiled, tilting her head a fraction in invitation. His glance dipped to her lips.

He kissed her.

It was everything she had dreamed of... Well, it could have been if not for the voice she heard just as he began to deepen their kiss.

"All right, don't move. Here's what's going to happen. Give me all of your valuables and don't try anything stupid."


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M

Chapter Six

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Getting near the end now.

* * *

How dare this creep interrupt the kiss of her life! Dormé saw red. She'd been waiting and dreaming of this kiss all day -- and even before it -- and she wasn't going to take the interruption meekly. No way, no how. 

Her training took hold. Automatically, she sized up the man. He was her height and looked to be close to her weight. He was scrawny and nervous and holding an old knife. It wasn't a big knife and she knew she'd have to hit him just right in the start or risk being cut. She'd trust Obi-Wan to step in if needed. Three moves, she thought. That's all I need. This creep is going down.

* * *

You have got to be kidding me, Obi-Wan thought. What have I done to deserve a day like this? He stared at the thief. What sort of idiot would try to mug a Jedi and a trained bodyguard? 

The kind who didn't realize it.

He opened his mouth to tell Dormé that he'd handle the matter, when she untangled herself from him and gave his arm a light squeeze.

"Let _me_," she said with a dangerous gleam in her eyes that loudly heralded much pain for this foolish man.

He almost pitied the thief, but then he recalled the blissful moment of the almost-kiss and all measure of pity fled. "Are you sure? Because, my dear Dormé, it wouldn't be any bother at all."

"No, I can handle it." She stood up straight, unclasping her cloak and letting it flutter to the ground. "Please allow me."

The thief gave the area surrounding them a nervous sweeping glance. "Come on already. The valuables people. I don't have all day."

"Then by all means," Obi-Wan said with a small gesture towards the man. "I wouldn't wish to deprive you of the pleasure."

"You're too kind, Obi-Wan. Really. Such a gentleman." She shifted her weight and with a glance at the thief, shifted again.

"Oh, no, no. Professional courtesy, Dormé. Ladies first." He inclined his head, smiling. "Whenever you're ready." Clasping his hands, he waited. This should be good. He couldn't wait to see what she did. Obi-Wan had never seen her in action before and looked forward to this display of her talents. Of course, if she needed help, he wouldn't hesitate to give it. He didn't anticipate any difficulty in disabling the man.

The thief rolled his eyes. "Would you two shut up and hand over the goods?"

Dormé's gaze slid to the thief. Her smile was sweet. "You really want it," she inquired.

Impatience rode the air about the man. "Yeah. Quite stalling and give it to me."

There was a flash of leg, a snap of her arm as her fist flew forward and another flash of leg and it was over. The man was on the ground, one hand at his groin and the other at his bleeding nose. Obi-Wan's smile widened into a grin. "That was beautifully done."

Dormé brushed her hands together as though dusting them off. "Thank you."

"You broke by dose!" A glare was directed towards her from the man on the ground.

"You shouldn't have tried to mug me," she retorted.

Obi-Wan stepped around the man and back to Dormé. "So, what shall we do with our mugger?"

"Have him arrested."

What a way to continue their day. The museum, the zoo and now the police station. He certainly wouldn't win any awards for the most boring afternoon now would he? Briefly, Obi-Wan hoped Anakin was staying out of trouble. He knew it was a futile hope, but after his own afternoon, he didn't think he'd feel like coping with any of Anakin's mishaps.

* * *

"She's not back yet." Padmé's tone held more than a little triumph. 

"I know." Anakin crawled along the carpet, searching in vain for the last earring. He hadn't meant to tip over her jewelry case. It had just sort of happened while they were flailing about on her bed. Besides, who kept a jewelry case on the nightstand anyway? Bizarre place for it in his opinion.

"It's been hours."

He chuckled happily. Fun hours he'd had with his wife. Thank you, Obi-Wan. "Don't I know it."

"You know what that means," she sing-songed.

"Not necessarily. I've told you --"

Padmé crawled towards him, apparently unnoticing that the pretty little chemise she'd put on to model for him had slipped down her chest and was displaying her charms in a lovely manner. "Oh hah! Boring Obi-Wan isn't. I mean, look at the interesting places you two have been and the things that happened to you over the years. Nests of gundarks, things like that." She settled into a sitting position, sliding the straps back up her arms and covering herself, much to his disappointment.

"I still don't think they're up to anything naughty."

"There are all kinds of naughty, aren't there? Dinner out says they are."

He sat back and thought that over. Dinner out meant finding a place that was dark and shadowed and didn't necessarily mean pricey food. Padmé would eat anywhere as long as they could be together. She'd even eat at the sort of dives Obi-Wan favored. Should he bet on this? She seemed pretty certain. Of course, he was equally certain Dormé and Obi-Wan were having a boring afternoon in some museum or something.

Padmé patted the carpet absent-mindedly, watching him. He spied the earring a few inches from her hand. "It's a harmless bet, Anakin. If I'm right, you treat me to dinner and if I'm wrong, I'll treat you. I'll throw in dessert regardless."

"You _are_ dessert, my love." He reached for the earring, held it up.

She arched a brow, lips curved in a soft smile as she took the earring from him and set it back where it belonged. "Exactly."

Anakin sighed. Here's hoping Obi-Wan took Dormé someplace dive-y and boring. He nodded. "Okay. I'll take that bet. Shall we kiss on it?"

Padmé's smile widened into a grin. She pressed a kiss to his lips before commenting, "I tell you, Anakin, they're having an interesting time in one way or another."

* * *

"Occupation," the bored clerk said, not raising his eyes from his work. 

Obi-Wan adjusted his robe, looking for a nametag or deskplate and finding none. "Jedi." It had been easier than they'd thought to find the station with their wounded thief in tow. Now, they were in the final moments of giving their statements.

"Jedi?" His glance flicked up, now noting the robe swept aside slightly and the glint of metal from Obi-Wan's lightsaber. His brows raised, likely wondering how Obi-Wan had been allowed to keep his weapon inside this area of the building. Obi-Wan didn't bother explaining. "Okay. Guess I don't need an address for you then. Just contact the Jedi Temple if we need you." The barest of smirks tugged the clerk's lips as he turned his attention to Dormé. After perusing her most thoroughly and paying extra attention to the press of her breasts along the edge of her shirt, he asked, "And how about you, Miss? Occupation?"

"Bodyguard," Dormé said almost primly, her cloak folded neatly on her lap.

The clerk leered, enjoying another look at her. "Sure. _Bodyguard_." He gave the word enough emphasis to make it clear just how much he doubted that being her profession. "Yeah, I'll just mark that down here, Miss Yrevie. Uh-huh."

Obi-Wan watched Dormé roll her eyes. He could have told her what the clerk would think if she'd asked him. After all, on their way in hadn't they seen several escorts -- high-class prostitutes -- waiting to be processed that were wearing dresses of similar fashion to hers? He imagined the man's thoughts. _Bodyguard? Yeah, sweetheart, you can guard my body any time. Listen, I got a free couple hours tomorrow night, so how about you guard my body then? _The idea made him laugh. Quickly, he tried to turn it into a cough, managing to net a suspicious glance from Dormé in the process.

"I'll need your place of employment, Miss Yrevie."

She fixed a withering glare upon him that didn't even make the smirk waver. "I am currently the Senior Handmaiden to Senator Padmé Amidala. I can be reached through her office." Dormé rattled off the particulars in a regal tone that had Obi-Wan wondering how often Padmé used Dormé as her decoy. She had that cultured manner of speaking down perfectly. "Is that enough information for you, or shall I give you my credentials and the contact numbers of the local branch of the Handmaidens Guild as well?" With a deceptively sweet smile, she arched a brow.

The clerk gave her another once over, slightly more respectively this time. "That's sufficient. May I ask what you were doing in the park at twilight? I mean, you do realize that's when the nut jobs all come out, right?"

"We were strolling," Obi-Wan replied.

"There are safer places for a casual stroll."

"But none that were close. We didn't wish to travel far from home." An unfortunate choice of words he realized, as the man frowned, a confused expression on his face. Oh dear, he thought. I shouldn't have said 'home'.

"So, you live together then?" He reached for the datapad as though to make a correction.

"Oh no, we're not together." Obi-Wan shook his head, attempting to explain.

"You don't know each other?" The clerk narrowed his eyes, hand hovering above the datapad.

"Oh, sorry, we _do_ know each other, but we're not together."

"We're not a couple," Dormé clarified. "We just didn't wish to go far from this area of Coruscant."

"We're friends," Obi-Wan said.

Once more, a lingering glance was dragged down Dormé. "Sure. _Friends_. Yeah. Tell you what, we don't need anything more at this time. We'll contact you if we do."

"We're free to go then?"

"Yup. Bye now."

In a minute, they were back outside.

* * *

_We do know each other, but we're not together_. 

_We're friends_.

Dormé looked up into Obi-Wan's eyes as they stood outside the building, and realized a truth. As much as she hoped and wished there was something more between them, there couldn't be. He could hardly ever be everything she desired him to be -- boyfriend, lover, husband and more -- because...

Obi-Wan was a Jedi. It was who he was and Jedi, she knew, were not allowed to marry. This man would not break that vow. He'd accepted that life as it was and had made it fully his. Being a Jedi _was_ his life. She'd seen ample evidence of that this day, evidence she couldn't ignore. They could be friends, good friends, but nothing deeper. Dormé could not give her heart away to him because, inevitably, it would be broken. He would have to break her heart to keep his vow and she didn't ever want to remember him with that sort of pain. Regret for what might have been was one thing, but heart-sick pain of love lost was another entirely.

"I need to be getting back," she said, blinking back sudden tears that she hoped he wouldn't notice. But he would notice, wouldn't he? It was his nature to see such things. Always observant, her Obi-Wan. He'd notice and he'd wonder and he might even ask about them.

"So soon?" His brows raised. "It's only dinner time."

"I'm afraid so." No, she decided. Obi-Wan wouldn't ask unless she was more obviously distressed. A gentleman would never embarrass a lady and he was such a gentleman.

Disappointment flickered across his features. "Well, then I must say that I have greatly enjoyed our afternoon together."

"Even getting thrown out of the museum? And the zoo? And getting mugged?"

Amusement sparked in his eyes, as though that had been what he'd enjoyed most of all. "Even all of that. It was the company that made it enjoyable." Obi-Wan sighed, hands raising. He cupped her face and placed a sweet, brief kiss upon her lips. It was no more than a second or two. "Would you care for an escort back," he asked in a polite tone.

"Oh no, I think I'll run a quick errand first."

After a moment, where concern and curiosity warred on his features, he nodded, stepping back and giving that little bow Jedi were so good at. "Until next time."

"Yes."

He began to walk away.

"Obi-Wan," she called. He turned. "I had a lovely time today."

Another bow and then he was gone, around the corner and out of sight.

Dormé turned and hurried back to the apartment building, sinking onto a bench in one corner of the lobby. She needed some time to think and to compose herself before going up to the apartment.

Sighing, she turned her thoughts to all the ways she'd hoped that her time with Obi-Wan would go. She'd been so stupid. Stupid! A crush on a Jedi. And not any Jedi either, but one that was what a Jedi was supposed to be. One that accepted and embraced the life. It didn't matter if she felt anything for him. He'd taken a vow. He was a Jedi, through and through.

What was I thinking?

"Dormé? Is that you," a male voice called out.

She looked up. Tepin, her acquaintance in building security, had come through the door from the walkway outside and stood in the entrance.

He gave her a delighted grin as he crossed to her. "It's been ages since I've seen you about. What have you been up to, my lovely friend?" His grin faded the closer he got, blue eyes taking in her tear streaked face.

Dormé tried to smile back, to compose herself, but it wasn't working. She kept thinking about Obi-Wan and how her stupid girlish crush had gotten so out of control. She wished desperately that he was more like Anakin, willing to ignore a silly rule.

But he wasn't like Anakin and they couldn't have a future together.

It was nothing that he had said directly, but rather the course of their conversations through the day and what she had observed with her own eyes. Obi-Wan was Jedi Knight, a Master. It was who he was and he did his utmost best to uphold the codes he'd sworn to follow. The war had him all over the galaxy doing his job.

If they actively pursued a future together, they would be parted much of the time. That, Dormé knew, could be hell. Padmé put on a brave front most of the time, claiming she was doing fine being parted from Anakin. She missed him, yes... All three of the handmaidens had heard her crying late at night when she thought no one would hear her. They didn't speak of it. Padmé didn't wish to. Dormé had once tried to get her lady to open up and had failed miserably, the only time Padmé had raised her voice at her in anger.

There would be no future with Obi-Wan and it made her heart ache more than she'd thought possible. It was a physical pain coupled with twinges of nausea in her belly.

Tepin joined her on the bench, concern rippling over his features. "What's upset you?" He rubbed a hand along her arm. He was the touchy-feely sort she'd noticed, inclined to greet friends with warmth and embraces. "Tell me."

"It's nothing," she replied, wiping her eyes and giving a shaky laugh that she saw didn't fool him in the least.

"Doesn't look to be nothing."

"Well it is."

His fingers touched her chin, gently tipped her head up. Tepin's gaze searched hers and finally he sighed. "Ahh, someone has broken your heart." His hand dropped from her.

Dormé glanced away. "Nothing so dramatic."

"It's very dramatic. A callous suitor tossing the fair maiden aside." There was a playful, yet caring twinkle in his eyes.

How sweet. He was trying to cheer her up. Despite herself, Dormé smiled at that, a genuine smile. "It wasn't like that. He's not the callous sort. I never told him how I felt."

He stared at her a long moment, curiosity in his expression. "Why ever not?"

"Because he can't return my feelings."

"You don't know that, Dormé. If you never told him, how can you know he doesn't feel the same for you? Perhaps he was hoping that you'd lay your heart bare so he could do the same. You women seem to have it easier doing so from what I've seen."

She shook her head. "I never said he doesn't return them, but that he can't."

Dormé watched him think that over, knew the conclusions he must be drawing. He'd never consider the man was a Jedi. After moment, Tepin took her hand, held it cradled in his own. His skin was warm, the touch reassuring and comforting.

"You're going to be okay."

She looked at him, _really_ looked and found she had not ever truly seen Tepin at all. He was not swooningly gorgeous, but he was rather attractive. Mischievous and kind blue eyes coupled with a face with the sort of features that engendered trust. He was not as young as she'd thought, perhaps closer to Obi-Wan's age than to Anakin's as she'd originally assumed. There was a maturity and confidence in how he held himself that was so like Obi-Wan that tears prickled in her eyes.

How had she not noticed before? Dormé blinked. Easy. She'd had that crush on Obi-Wan.

Tepin had a lovely sense of humor as she'd already known and he knew when to be honestly alarmed. He was good at his job, well liked. And now she was curious. He was all that and obviously more, so why was he still single? Why did he not have a wife and several babies? "Has anyone ever broken your heart," she asked him.

He gave the question serious thought, finally tipping his head in a slow nod. "There is one woman who could break my heart quite easily. She holds it in her hands and has from the moment I met her. I would be hers if she would crook her finger."

"Will you tell me about her?" Silly, wasn't it? Wanting to hear of someone else's heartbreak.

His lips parted, the humor slipping from his eyes. Tepin squeezed her hand. "Very well. I see her nearly every day. I find her beautiful in looks and in spirit, compassionate, thoughtful, intelligent...and currently sitting beside me with her heart in pieces from another man."

She drew in a quick breath, coughed when she swallowed wrong and tried to tug her hand from his. He held on.

"Wait. Just listen to me, please. I'm not going to press you into anything. I know you're hurting right now. Just..." He turned a little on the bench. "Let's be friends and see where it takes us. We'll do friend things. Go to the theater, have lunch. If it leads us eventually to romance, then so be it and if not..." He shrugged. "We shall both have one more person to call friend."

She bit her lip, considering his offer. Why not? He was here and he wasn't going anywhere. There would not be long months between meetings. He was nice. He cared. Besides, it was always nice to have another friend. She nodded. "We'll see where it takes us."

They sat together for several more minutes, chatting quietly before he announced he needed to return to work. Dormé entered the lift, returning to an apartment that was still and quiet save for the male laughter that echoed from Padmé's bedroom. She knocked on the door, mentioned to a tired looking Padmé that Obi-Wan was going to be back at the Jedi Temple within the hour and went to her own room.

She listened to Anakin's hasty and vocal exit with an amused grin. Apparently, he'd hoped to have part of the evening here as well as the afternoon. She tuned it all out and began to change from her dress, pausing when she noticed her camera was on. She didn't remember Padmé returning it, but there it was on her dresser.

Dormé switched it on and off. It remained on. "Huh." Shaking it did nothing and when she tried to do anything, all she got were several jumbled images of what appeared to be very naked people. The images were too badly garbled to see clearly and she thought it was just as well. "Stupid piece of used junk."

Hopefully the camera hadn't spazzed out like that when Padmé was using it. That would have been embarrassing, trying to explain how pictures like _that_ got on her camera.

She'd have to remember not to buy a used camera again.

Dormé hung her dress back up and slipped her robe on.

Her crush _had_ been silly, hadn't it? Still, she wondered where they could have ended up had things been different. Dormé shook her head and consciously put away her crush. It would be awhile she knew before it no longer hurt, but some day she'd be fine.

* * *

Anakin was not happy to see Dormé returned so soon. He'd only had a few hours with Padmé and that was never enough. He needed more than that. Especially since precious minutes were used dealing with the camera fiasco. Still, he knew better than to dawdle on his way back, managing to enter his room only a few minutes before his Master knocked on the door. 

He opened it, wondering just how to explain why he was sweaty and out of breath. "Master, you're back."

"Yes. Did you get anything constructive completed while I was gone?" Though he asked the question, Obi-Wan didn't seem to want an answer, sniffing loudly and continuing on without giving him time to answer. "You look a little flushed, Anakin. Are you feeling all right?"

"Well, I --"

"Perhaps you should turn in early, yes? We'll be leaving tomorrow evening and you should be rested. Go to bed early. I'll see you in the morning."

"Well..." He nodded. "Yes, Master." As Obi-Wan walked away, he called out, "Did you enjoy your tea?"

Obi-Wan paused with a glance over his shoulder. He seemed a little sad. "Yes, thank you, Anakin, I did. Good night then."

Anakin waited until he was gone, then closed the door and sat on his bed. He'd better not sneak back out to Padmé's tonight. If Obi-Wan thought he was sick, he might check on him. He wondered what had happened between Obi-Wan and Dormé. His Master hadn't had the usual spring in his step upon his return. That didn't bode well for Padmé in the bet department.

He smiled, and turned his thoughts back to Padmé, lying back on his bed as he recalled the lovely hours they'd had together. If only he could have kept a couple of those pictures...

* * *

Obi-Wan didn't want to know what Anakin had been doing. He decided the truth of why Anakin smelled like women's perfume would be far worse than anything he could imagine, so he'd let it slide this time. Besides, his Padawan looked as though he'd been running for a good half of an hour. Drenched in sweat and out of breath. Sometimes, it was better not to ask what Anakin had been up to and as long as he wasn't contacted by an irate shop owner or some such person, he'd excuse it. 

He went to his quarters and went to sleep, dreaming of kissing Dormé.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Tea For Two

Author: kasey8473

Summary: Dormé has a tiny little crush on Obi-Wan. There is a slight possibility he reciprocates.

Rating: M

Chapter Seven

Timeframe: Between AOTC and ROTS

Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No disrespect is intended with this story.

Notes: Their story doesn't end with this chapter. Rather than have a large chunk of time pass, I opted to write the last two-thirds as a sequel. It's entitled 'Third Time is a Charm' and is being posted at present. Apologies for the confusion.

* * *

_**Two months from tea --**_

It was too late in the day. Obi-Wan gave a longing glance towards the holotransmitter, grudgingly deciding that he needed rest more than he needed an hour of seeing Dormé. If he tried to talk to her now, he'd likely make no sense. Lack of sleep for several days in a row had him irritable and very close to falling asleep on his feet. It was no wonder Anakin had taken himself off to make a visit with a friend upon their arrival.

He admired Anakin's stamina. He was just as sleep-deprived as Obi-Wan, yet he'd committed himself to dinner with one of his many acquaintances. Who, Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure, but he had a vague idea of where Anakin was heading. The posh area of Coruscant. One of his friends liked a restaurant near where Padmé's building was...

Ahh, he thought. To be young again.

Then he chuckled. As if he was old and decrepit.

He changed into his nightclothes and poured himself a drink before relaxing on his bed. It was good to be back here, if only for a few hours. He'd have to remember to contact Dormé in the morning. Perhaps he should wake up a little earlier. Dormé had once admitted to being a morning person, just like he was.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and fell asleep before he could take a single sip of his drink, exhaustion sucking him under.

A crisis that brewed in the night kept him busy with the Council in the morning and he wasn't able to complete his plans to contact Dormé.

* * *

"Oh, Ani, you look so tired!" Padmé ran her fingers in soothing strokes along his face. 

Anakin held her to him in a tight embrace. It felt good to hold her again, to have her arms around him and her body pressed to his. Unfortunately, he didn't have time for even a few minutes of proper snuggling. "I had to see you, if only for a couple minutes. I've got an hour, if I can stay awake. I told Obi-Wan I was meeting a friend for dinner." He gave a polite nod in the direction of Dormé and Ellé.

They returned the gesture and he thought Dormé was going to say something, but then she nodded once more and left the room, Ellé following her.

"How long are you here," Padmé asked in a hopeful tone, pulling him towards the couch.

Anakin hated to smash those hopes, but he had to get some actual sleep. He was running so behind on rest that it'd spell disaster if he stayed here long. He rarely got any rest when he stayed with her. It wouldn't be good to accidentally fall asleep right when he was needed. "We leave again tomorrow. Mid-morning. This was just a brief check-in."

"So soon?"

"I know. I'm not happy about it either. Obi-Wan and I are both short on sleep and temper. I hate it when he's grumpy and he's been grumpy for days. If he doesn't get some rest soon, I swear I'll slip him a tranquilizer." He sat, drawing her onto his lap and kissing her with all of the pent up longing he'd been feeling. "I miss you so much when I'm away. I wish I could stay here with you."

"I know." She ran her hands through his hair, pressing kisses to his face. "Are you sure you can't stay? An hour, Anakin, maybe an hour and a half?"

"I'd love to, but I have to get some sleep. I've never been this exhausted, Padmé. It's never-ending. There are too few of us, I see that. We're already spread so thin..."

"Sshh." She kissed him. "An hour. It'll have to do, won't it?"

Perhaps as the war went on there'd be visits where he could spend an extra half an hour. Anakin put his face against her hair, breathed in the scent of her perfume. It wasn't going to happen, but he could pretend, couldn't he?

* * *

Dormé and Ellé lingered in the hallway, far enough that the illusion of privacy was given and close enough to be on hand if needed. They listened to the conversation, heard the mention of exhaustion. Dormé clasped her hands together. She hoped Obi-Wan got some sleep. Briefly, she wondered if she should nip into her room and contact him for a few minutes right now. 

No, she decided. He needed rest more than conversation. When she woke in the morning, she'd contact him. He was an early riser like herself.

The next morning, she found her plans turned upside down. Moteé became ill and Dormé did not have a spare moment for casual conversation.

* * *

_**Six months from tea --**_

Tepin wined her and dined her and not once did he overstep the bounds of propriety. As the days had passed and became weeks without word from Obi-Wan, Dormé let herself be wooed. She let herself entertain wonderings of...Tepin.

If she couldn't have Obi-Wan and she knew she couldn't, then Tepin was _almost_ like him. She shared similar tastes with Tepin, from foods to entertainment and he tried so hard to keep her at ease. He wasn't Obi-Wan, but if she tried really hard...

Five months from her last afternoon with Obi-Wan, Dormé had accepted things as they were. She'd shed many tears in the realization that her dear Jedi friend was only that: a friend. She treasured those brief moments they'd had together, where she'd dreamed anything was possible. She cherished the all too quick brush of his lips upon hers and, with a sadness that lingered, turned her affections fully to Tepin.

Still, when she had the time to turn her thoughts to fancy, Dormé wondered what might have been had things been different. Marriage, babies and Obi-Wan beside her. But it was only fancy, nothing more. Never more.

Tepin's proposal surprised her, though it shouldn't have. He'd made no secret of his feelings for her. She had known from the start he loved her.

Dormé sat down with Padmé, a final few minutes together before Tepin returned to the apartment for her. They were leaving for Naboo in a few hours to begin their life there.

Padmé was crying. "Dormé, I'm going to miss you!"

"And I you."

"I can't believe you're leaving."

A few minutes passed, gentle conversation and Dormé brought up the one subject they two had not discussed since the afternoon tea that day months earlier. "My lady, I have a request." At Padmé's nod, she continued. "If you see Obi-Wan, will you..." She licked her lips, feeling awkward, yet that she had to make this request. She couldn't leave him wondering and it hadn't ever felt right to contact him through the Jedi Temple. "Will you tell him..."

"Yes?"

Dormé gave a shaky laugh. "Tell him the news." She wiped at the tears that slipped from her eyes but they wouldn't stop coming. "Tell him in person and if he asks...I am happy."

"I will."

"Thank you."

Padmé's hands grasped hers, gaze searching and serious. Her voice was a whisper. "Dormé, did you love him?"

"Tepin or Obi-Wan," she countered.

"_Dormé_." Padmé shook her head. "It's not impossible--"

"I made a choice. I'm not strong enough to withstand being parted. I made my decision...Padmé. I will love Tepin and be a good wife to him. That's my future."

Padmé was quiet and then, "Did Obi-Wan ever have any idea?"

Dormé didn't reply.

"Does Tepin?"

"Yes. He's known from the start. I was honest with him."

They were quiet for a long while. Padmé released her hands. "In person. I promise."

Dormé left the apartment and walked into a new life.

* * *

_**Seven months from tea --**_

It was an occasional luxury to work from the apartment, with all the comforts of home right on hand. Not to mention that Padmé could kick her shoes off as she read reports without feeling unprofessional for doing so. She worked on the final rearrangements to her evening plans, not glancing up when Moteé came to her. If she paused now, she'd never get this worked out to her satisfaction. "One minute, please, Moteé." Within minutes, she'd cleared a full three hours to see Anakin, the longest stretch they'd had together in nearly seven months. Pleased with herself, she sat back. "Yes, what is it?"

"My lady, there is a transmission waiting for Dormé. What should I do with it? Forward it to Naboo?"

A transmission? Who would send a message to her here? She'd thought all of Dormé's friends knew she was... Padmé blinked. No, not all. There was one who would not know. Obi-Wan. Padmé had not made a mention of Dormé to Anakin when they'd spoken. They'd had little time to indulge in small talk in their brief meetings. Therefore, Anakin couldn't have told Obi-Wan. "I'll take care of it."

She heard the message in private. It wouldn't do to send it on to Naboo if it was something...personal. Tepin was a nice guy, but there were limits and having the man his new wife had been in love with come calling on her might strain his cheerful mien. The message was mild, however, naming a place and a time. Padmé shook her head at the expression on Obi-Wan's face. And Dormé had assumed there was no hope. How could she _not_ have noticed Obi-Wan's feelings? They were right there on his face.

That could have been me with Anakin, she thought. Just missing, never meeting, and moving on both a bit older and a bit sadder for the sense of what may have been. It made _her_ sad just thinking about it.

She remembered her promise. In person. She had to tell him in person. Getting up from the chair, she headed towards her room. If she hurried, she'd arrive only a few minutes after Obi-Wan.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat at the café he and Dormé had met at, more for nostalgia's sake than anything else. He sat at the table they had last taken, a pot of tea and a plate before him. She had not returned his transmission, this first one he'd had time in months to send, and so he had come here alone, meeting no one to cement the memories in his mind. 

Well, he thought, I can take a hint.

She obviously no longer wished to spend an afternoon with him. That was fine. He realized that much could have changed in the time he'd been gone from Coruscant and when he and Anakin _had_ been back, he'd barely had time to breathe, let alone meet with Dormé for a casual, relaxed hour or two.

What did bother him were the wonderings if he'd done anything wrong on their last meeting. He didn't think he had, but sometimes women made no sense. He thought they'd parted on good terms. She hadn't seemed upset over the problem at the museum, or the zoo, or even nearly getting mugged. She _had_ let him kiss her. Twice. That meant good terms, yes?

But she had been sad at the end, when they'd parted outside the police station. He'd felt her sadness and not asked on it, assuming it was the same reason he'd been a little sad: that their time together had ended for the day. Had he said something, done something that had offended her? If only he had some idea what had gone wrong that she wouldn't even send a reply. It wasn't like her. Dormé was a lady in her manners and ladies always sent replies.

"May I join you?"

He glanced up, surprised to find Padmé Amidala beside him. She was swathed in one of the more voluminous robes her handmaidens wore and he wondered on the disguise. Was excitement once more on Padmé's doorstep? Her gaze swept the café and returned to him. She carried a cup in her hands. "Of course." He motioned to the chair across from him with one hand. "Please do."

She set her cup down and sat. Her expression was almost sympathetic and she came straight to the point. "Dormé did not reply to your transmission because she has left Coruscant for good. She is no longer in my employ."

That surprised him. Dormé no longer a part of Padmé's entourage? Strange. Why? What had happened? He'd thought she'd enjoyed her work and been happy there. He nodded. "I see."

Padmé sipped from her cup. "Moteé told me of the transmission. I told her that I would take care of it. Here I am."

"I appreciate the courtesy."

"Well, I knew you were friends. You should know the why of it." She paused, then rushed on. "Last month, Dormé married Tepin from building security."

Married? Obi-Wan sifted through faces in memory until he placed the man. He hadn't had occasion to speak with him more than a moment, but he remembered thinking that Tepin was nice and quite competent. A good man.

"The wedding was small and both Tepin and Dormé's families came from Naboo for it. It was just how Dormé wanted it. Quiet. She looked so pretty in her dress..." Padmé trailed off, taking a large gulp of tea and coughing.

Obi-Wan wondered if his shock was reflected on his face.

"Anyway, Tepin took a position with Royal Security on Naboo and naturally, Dormé wished to be with him. They left before your transmission even came. She wanted to tell you herself, I know she did, but--"

There was a peculiar little ache in his chest. Wherever had that come from? It hadn't been there a moment ago. No, it _had_ been there, but now it was so much _tighter_, constricting. Obi-Wan nodded. Married. Dormé, his lovely lady Dormé, was married. The only thing he could think of to say was, "Is she happy?"

Padmé looked him over before replying. "Yes, I believe she is."

He blinked, and for a brief moment, imagined what could have been were circumstances different. Marriage, babies and Dormé. He imagined a quiet life somewhere together. What would it have been like to wake up to her beautiful face everyday? To hold her close whenever he wished and tell her just how much he... There was the sting of tears in his eyes and he consciously held them back.

_Let her go. You know you have to_.

He sighed to himself and managed a small smile though the ache was still there. "Well then, the next time you speak with her, please convey my congratulations. I wish them a long happy life together."

It was the truth. Obi-Wan would never wish anything less for his Dormé. He took a sip of tea. She was not his Dormé any longer was she? She was Tepin's Dormé. He hoped they would both be very happy and have lots of babies if they so wished it. A good life.

Padmé watched him a moment longer, and he had the sense that she didn't understand something. Her head tilted slightly to one side, mouth opening as though to comment, but she frowned instead, drinking down the rest of her tea.

Was she wondering why he didn't ask how to contact Dormé? Did she realize how awkward he'd feel doing so? It wouldn't be right to call on another man's wife, not when he had feelings for her. He should have told Dormé, shouldn't he? Maybe then...

"I will tell her." She stood. "I must be getting back."

He inclined his head and watched her go. His glance raised to the sky, and after a minute's contemplation, he called a server over and ordered one of Dormé's favorite pastries.

It was sweet, and this time, he did not find it overly so.

Be happy Dormé, he thought as he ate. I will cherish the time we had together.

Obi-Wan paid for the tea and the pastry and began the stroll back to the Jedi Temple. The day was perfect for a walk. Not too cool and not too warm. Just right. He passed by the museum, the zoo and the park, a smile on his lips as memories of that afternoon months earlier played in his mind. Her company had been delightful. He reached the Temple and went inside.

Ignoring the lingering sadness in his heart, Obi-Wan went on with the business of life.


End file.
